Serving the Crown
by chuochuo
Summary: Peter learns that Edmund has tried to enlist before his last visit to Narnia. Follow-up on a scene at the beginning of VoDT. Sibling fluff. Movieverse.


**A/N: I was always curious whether Peter ever got to know that Edmund tried to enlist at the beginning of VoDT. Since I hadn't seen any fanfic on this, I decided to write one myself. Here's my take on what would have happened if Peter was finally enlightened of this particular event. I hope you enjoy it ;)**

**Spoiler alert: minor spoilers of VoDT.**

**Special thanks to lemonsmania for helping me fix mistake on Edmund's age!  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: Not mine *sighs for the thousandth time***

* * *

><p><strong>o0o0o0o<br>**

**Serving the Crown**

****o0o0o0o****

Finchley had never looked so lovely to the Pevensies, who, after months of separation, were finally back together as a whole family.

They spent the first few moments with much crying, hugging, laughing, kissing, and then crying all over again. They all had their share of story to recount, but out of the earshot of Mr. and Mrs. Pevensie, the four siblings spent their time primarily on narrating and listening to the youngest two's latest (and last) journey to Narnia.

The story was told in great detail and vibrancy, some particularly intriguing parts (such as the un-dragoning of their cousin) gladly repeated numerous times upon request. Thus by the end of the first week back home, Peter and Susan had memorized the entire voyage of _Dawn Treader_ to heart.

At first they fretted and belatedly worried at the plights their younger siblings had to face, but in the end they both admitted that Aslan always knew the way He guided His children along, and that His plans were good. Always, and without fail.

.

"A penny for your thought?"

Started, Edmund sharply turned from where he had been staring distractedly at the flowerbed in the backyard, only to find the grinning face of his younger sister.

He scowled, but there was not a hint of malice or even annoyance behind the expression. Knowing this, Lucy only grinned bigger and brighter.

"Well, so what are you thinking about, O wise one?" She liltingly restated her question as she flopped down next to Edmund, who was leaning against the wall just beside the kitchen window.

"Nothing in particular," was Edmund's short reply.

This time, it was Lucy who scowled at her sibling.

"Nice try. But next time be mindful of exactly _who_ you are trying to fool," she said, folding her arms in front of her, shooting glares to him.

Edmund chuckled as he held up his hands, palms out, in a clear sign of defeat.

"Alright, alright. But really, it's nothing. When I went to pick up grocery for Mum just now I met Gregory – you remember him, a chap from my school living two blocks down? – and well, he told me his brother just enlisted."

Lucy gasped. "Edmund, you are _not_-"

"No, I'm not going to enlist, and yes, I'm perfectly aware that I'm underage," Edmund cut her short, rolling his eyes. "Serious Lu, you worry too much."

"Well, I wouldn't if you hadn't tried to pull off that particular stunt a few months ago in Cambridge!" Lucy retorted. "Albert A. Scrubb? Seriously? I still can't believe the sergeant was even considering accepting you. He must have been in a dire need of specs if he thought you were even remotely old enough to join the war!"

"I _was_ a diplomat for fifteen years," Edmund drily reminded her.

"One of our best." Lucy sighed. "Just don't try something like that ever again."

"As you wish, my Queen," her brother replied, lifting her hand and planting a light kiss on it.

Just then, they heard their older sister calling the youngest for a walk down to the park.

Lucy gently patted her brother's cheek and stood up.

After a short exchange of goodbyes, she left, leaving Edmund to his thoughts.

Just as Edmund started to idly replay his previous conversation with Gregory, a tanned hand suddenly came out from the window and landed on Edmund's head.

Startled for the second time in less than ten minutes, Edmund turned to glare at the source of annoyance – and stopped short when he noticed that the hand on the top of his head was trembling.

The warmth of the hand was too familiar to be mistaken.

"Peter?" Lifting his gaze, Edmund found that it was indeed Peter who was standing at the window with an outstretched arm.

Just then realization hit the younger of the two. "Bloody hell. You heard?" Edmund winced when he saw his brother nod his head weakly.

Soon the older teenager withdrew his hand from the top of the younger's head, jumped out of the window and landed gracefully – albeit a little shakily – right next to him.

"Is it true? What-what Lucy said? About you trying to enlist?" Peter asked, and Edmund inwardly cringed at the faint sign of panic at the edge of his voice.

He rose to his feet, facing his brother. Wincing and bracing himself for the inevitable, he nodded.

And was instantly crushed into his brother's chest.

"P-Peter!" Suddenly grateful that the street was rarely treaded on at this time of the day, Edmund tried to extract himself from the embrace in vain.

"You _idiot_!" Peter's roar instantly stopped the younger's movement. "How-how could you? What did you _think_ I would have felt if you really, Aslan forbid, enlisted? Did you even stop to think about what it would have done to the girls and me? Our parents? What _were_ you thinking?"

"I just hated feeling so helpless!" Unable to maintain the rein on his emotions any longer, Edmund retorted fiercely from where his face was buried on Peter's shoulder. "We were all separated, for Lion knew how long, and there wasn't even a _single thing_ _I could do!_"

"So you just go ahead and enlist? You thought you enlisting would instantly stop the war?" Peter hotly asked him, pulling back just enough to look him directly in the eye, his hands firmly grasping his shoulders.

"At least then I would be able to do something!" Edmund replied, not avoiding the gaze.

"Do what? Get yourself killed?" As soon as the words were out of his own mouth, Peter's face paled.

The image of his little brother lying dead inside a trench, covered in his own blood invaded his mind.

He desperately shook his head to shake off the image, which suddenly morphed into a more vivid picture – no, memory – of him lying bleeding in Beruna.

His brother's lifeblood making crimson, revolting pool next to his unmoving body, his eyes closing, almost as if falling into peaceful slumber, his ragged breathing growing slower and slower until – Peter couldn't think anymore. "Oh, Ed…."

To Peter, his brother, wrapped up in his arms like this, looked so very small and young. He barely came to his chin – he would be that way for a long time to come, if their physical growth matched that in Narnia – and had only just begun to grow into his long, slight limbs.

He knew the younger king was strong. His brother had fought countless foes much larger than him in size and came out victorious.

Peter had witnessed those moments firsthand. But, that was the point. He was _there_ when those things happened, ready to come to his aid and more than willing to take a blow for him, if the need arises.

But if Edmund was shipped away to some foreign land, lost amongst nameless, faceless soldiers, he would not be able to be there for him.

He would not be able to keep him safe.

Peter felt the back of his eyes burn, and soon tears made steady streams down his cheeks. Even the possibility of losing his brother was almost too much for him to bear.

With a shaky hand, he cupped his younger's face. "I can't lose you, Ed. You know it. I-I just can't even _imagine_ not having you right beside me." His voice hitched as he suppressed a sob, "P-please. Please, Ed."

"You great git," Edmund groaned, and reburied his face in the nook of his brother's neck.

Peter's arms instantly enveloped his shoulders and brought them as close to each other as possible.

"You know you're overreacting, right? You don't have to plead with me like that. You heard what I told Lucy. I won't try to enlist anymore," Edmund murmured against the warm skin.

"P-promise? Promise you will never try it again?" Peter asked, pressing his cheek on the top of the dark curls.

He tightened his embrace almost instinctually. He just wanted to know for sure that his baby brother was indeed here with him, not away fighting on a battlefield so different from the ones they were used to.

Edmund sighed and gently nuzzled into his brother's shoulder, reassuring him that he was here, and was not leaving him anytime soon.

"Yes, I promise," he whispered. "You are my King to serve, after all."

The only answer Edmund received for his declaration of loyalty was a wet chuckle that rumbled deep in his brother's chest.

It was reward enough for him.

**o0o0o0o  
><strong>

**The end  
><strong>

****o0o0o0o****

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N: So yeah, nobody is enlisting :) Frankly speaking, I just _can't_ imagine either Peter or Edmund fighting in modern wars. They are built to fight with swords and shields, not guns or bombs. So at least in my fanfic world I'm going to keep both of them nice and safe!**

**As usual, reviews are much appreciated!  
><strong>


End file.
